Yesterday was a big day. It was the first day I was apart from Charlotte. Granted it was only for a little less than 2 hours (to get my nails done), but still… I was leaving her. As I was prepping to go, I started getting really nervous that she was going to be a total milk monster and give Mark hell while I was gone. So, going off the fact that the doc gave us the okay to give her a paci since she’s such a pro nurser (which we gave her for the first time two days ago), I figured I would pump so I could leave a “just in case” bottle for Mark.
It would be my first time pumping since her arrival. In pure Melissa fashion, I was running late, so I fed her on one side, then switched her to the other while I pumped the first side. Talk about feeling like a cow… I had baby milking one utter, machine milking another. Yikes. Anyway, when she was done with side two, I pumped on that side and got a little over 4 ounces total. Then, I was out the door. But not before Mark could say in a borderline annoyed tone, “what are you so worried about?”
The second I left, I had a pit of guilt in my stomach. Stupid mom guilt. I started worrying about the bottle… Did Mark know how to heat it up? We’ve never used a bottle. Would she take it? Would it mess with her latch? What if she didn’t want to nurse after that? Oy.
Needless to say, it wasn’t my most relaxing mani/pedi, but I tried to enjoy myself. Even when I asked Mark for an update and he informed me that she took 2 ounces chilled… He read that you didn’t need to heat it up. Urgh. What if she only likes chilled milk and refuses my warm milk from the utter? Deep breaths.
After some worried words from me, he warmed up the next bottle and she conked out right at first taste.
When I got home, I snuggled my sweet girl and felt a huge sigh of relief. It was good to be home and of course, everything was fine. And of course, she had no problem taking the breast.
Later in the evening, as we were getting ready to watch the baseball game with some friends downtown, Mark called me into the nursery to show me Charlotte’s first tear. It was adorable. One single tear running down her little cheek. Likely flowing because she wanted more milk.
To continue in the firsts, Mark finally dragged me out of the house to see friends. I’ve been so nervous about Charlotte. Would she have a meltdown? Would I have to be feeding her the whole time? Etc. As soon as we got there, she wanted to eat, but luckily, our friends have a 10 mo, so we excused ourselves to the nursery and gave the milk monster some fuel. After that, it was smooth sailing and really quite nice to get out of the house and visit with friends.